


Family

by flinchflower



Series: Slash Me Twice [100]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Demons, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Scolding, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-15
Updated: 2013-11-15
Packaged: 2018-01-01 14:35:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1045086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flinchflower/pseuds/flinchflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt 100:  Game.  And thus concludes S2, in all it's glory, with a number of characters alive despite Kripke's intentions.  LOL.  There's been good decisions, bad decisions, and there are DEFINITELY consequences...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not for profit, simply a writing exercise. Herein lies Dean/Sam slash, in an AU timeline where John did not lose his life. John appears in parental context only.
> 
> Warning: Re-write of the S2 finale... I wasn't sure if I could really manage this, but apparently adequately at least!

“Get me out of here, Missy.” 

“Johnathan Winchester," she says. “You just had a massive heart attack – two of them, for that matter. You are going NOWHERE.”

“The boys, I need-“

“Don’t remember anything, eh?”

“What?” He’s terribly confused, and then the doctor re-enters, interrupting the arguent. “How soon can I get out of here,” John demands. “I need to find my boys.”

“Five days, MINIMUM,” the man says, frowning, “and if you try signing out AMA, I’ll have you put on a 72 hour hold.”

A psychiatric hold, the man means. FUCK.

“Missy, Dean-“

“I’ll go try their cells again.”

He listens half-heartedly to the lecturing the doc is doing, aware that the man sighs, aware that he’s aware that John isn’t listening. “You’re not going to settle down until you hear from your children, are you.”

John shakes his head, mutely, and then Jim Murphy walks in the doorway.

“JIM – tell me they’re all right-“

“They’re fine, John. Bobby called to check in. They’re heading back to his place, he wants to get the boys to rest a little. It’s,” Jim hesitates, looking at the doctor. “It’s all over. They caught the guy, John, or rather, one of the sharpshooters did, and he’s dead.”

John’s mouth dropped open. It’s one thing to have faith in your children to carry out orders, do a job right, but it’s another thing to hear one of your closest friends tell you that your quest of twenty-four years is discharged, that your family came through it unscathed. He catches the doctor narrowing his eyes at him.

“Mr. Winchester, I suggest you don’t get terribly excited over anything,” he says, giving a pointed look at Jim Murphy. “Two heart attacks aren’t something to take lightly.”

“Father Murphy,” Jim says, turning and shaking the man’s hand. “He’s family. Stubborn idiot, but don’t worry, we’ll take care of him. His boys were in a bad situation, and I think he’ll maybe relax a little more if he has some details.”

The doctor hesitates, then looks again at the cardiac monitors, which haven’t fluttered. “I’ll give you some privacy then. See if you can wrap it up quick, and I’ll be right outside, just in case.”

Jim perches on the side of John’s bed, laying a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “There isn’t much more. They got him, Johnny. It unlocked a Devil’s Gate there, though, couple hundred got loose, so you need to mend up, be ready. The boys are with Bobby, and Ellen, they’ll be here soon.”

“How far,” John asks roughly. 

“It’s two days drive, tired like they are, so I’d say if you manage to behave yourself here, that by the time they get here, they can maybe take you home with them.”

“Good,” he says, and finally falls back to rest. Jim just parks himself in the visitor’s chair, opens his book, and the doctor smiles this time, seeing John dozing, and the good Pastor keeping watch.

***

They sit together, Sam and Dean, during the debriefing with Bobby. It took a lot to pry it out of Dean, but he finally caved to Sammy, like always. He never could deny the kid anything, and right now, he’s trying to blink the tears away, because Sammy’s just lived up to the family stubbornness, telling him that he’ll get Dean out of it - like anyone can shake a deal with a demon. They sit together, Sam and Dean, and there aren’t many more words, just stubborn Winchester love that they can both feel, sitting together so that their knees and shoulders touch, subtle, and present.

***  
They’re lucky Dad’s not here, Dean thinks, but then again, this isn’t pretty either, both Bobby and Ellen yelling at him, and Sam’s gone all stoic and silent. They know Dad must be okay, all Missouri said was that she had him, and Dean would really like to do away with this bullshit so he can call his dad, debrief properly and confess, because that’s all that’s gonna help him now. That and planning some demon hunting. And he’s pretty sure that Sam’s plotting on how to break that damn deal. They work good like that, like Bonnie and Clyde, he thinks, trying not to snort at the thought.

Bobby’s too angry to do anything but yell, apparently, which Dean is colossally thankful for, and something Ellen says finally catches his attention, and he wants to hear it again.

“What?”

“You know what I said. Get the hell over here, boy.”

It’s just Ellen. Hell. He guesses if he lets her sock him one, it might make Sam and Bobby feel better, even if it is gonna hurt like a sonovabitch. He strolls on over, gives her a cocky-ass grin. Which is immediately wiped off of his face when she moves faster than any woman he’s ever seen, gets him pinned in a fucking submission hold, down on the floor. He’s down to his knees just as fast as he would be with his brother or his father, and then he cottons on to her intent, as she gets him facedown, his waist in an iron fast grip across her lap, what there is of it. She’s kneeling, and it’s a little awkward, but he doesn’t dare move, because if he does he’ll put his shoulder out, and her other hand’s pinching a nerve in his thigh tight enough he can’t move his leg right now.

“Let me up, Ellen!”

“Not until you get a little of what’s coming to you.” And then Dean feels the blaze of her palm across his backside – some part of his brain suggests that this is gonna be really bad, if the first one hurts that terribly, and over his bluejeans, too. And she continues to bring her hand down, and damn fuck, but that woman has a swing on her, and before he can help himself, he’s squirming and hollering at her to quit. And then Bobby crouches down, picks his chin up to force Dean to look in his eyes, even as Ellen keeps smacking, and if that isn’t humiliating, Dean doesn’t know what it is.

“I suggest, boy, that you mind your language, unless you want a trip over my knee when she’s done with you.” 

Dean’s eyes widen in horror. Yeah. All he’d thought about was that he couldn’t let Sam go, it was his job to take care of him, and that’s all he was doing. He’s shouting the words out when his throat closes around a particularly vehement statement, and he’s choking on tears, all he wants to do is get to Sam, get the two of them the hell down to Missouri and Dad.

Ellen eases up, pulls him to her, wrapping her arms around him, and he tries to turn away. Winchesters don’t cry like this. She looks distressed, but he’s not about to give her that leeway, and then Sam’s stepping over, taking his arm, pulling him out of Ellen’s grasp. Dean leans on him heavy, choking with terrible sobs, and Sam just walks his brother up the stairs into the bedroom, tossing both of them on the bed at the same time, and Dean realizes he’s in tears, too. They just cling to one another, until one of them’s sleepy enough to drop his guard, whispers “I love you,” and hears it back in return. They won’t remember who said it first, later.

Ellen rises to her feet, dusts off her knees, gives Bobby a look. He snorts, and she slowly pulls out her cell phone. 

“Yeah, I’d think you’d want to fess up to that one,” Bobby tells her. John doesn’t take lightly to most people laying a hand on his boys. He’s pretty sure that John’s gonna be livid, but there’s a reason he didn’t have Dean over his own knee. He understands why Dean did it, and in his opinion, it’s an internal matter, something the Winchester unit will handle on it’s own without the rest of the company. He’s gonna see that the boys head straight out after they come down, he thinks, changing his mind. John'll be frantic until he sees them. A fucking heart attack. God. He or Jim will be fighting with John like cats and dogs while the man recovers. The kids are still too tired to be thinking straight, but Bobby’ll fill a cooler with sandwiches and soda, make sure they eat at least.

***

John picks up his cell phone, surprised he’s allowed to have it on in the hospital. Ellen. Shit, he was hoping for Dean or Sam, but he answers anyways, ignoring Jim’s glare.

“Winchester.”

“John, I’ve got an apology to make you.”

“Do you now.” Shit, he hates conversations like this.

“I turned your fool boy over my knee, idiot that he is, and I hope you’re gonna follow suit.” 

John rolls his eyes. He’ll forgive her, since she’s man enough – er, bold enough to call and fess up. “What’d my boy do this time,” he asks, and Jim isn’t fast enough to take the phone from him.

“How is it you don’t know that your oldest boy made a deal with a demon to bring Sam back from the dead?”

John chokes and sputters, the monitors start screaming as his heart races for a minute, and Jim snatches the phone away as the nurses run in, and he’s reminding himself to breathe slow, it means Sam’s alive, Dean’s alive, and there’s always a way around things. Always. Look at the deal they got John out of, the one that let Dean live after the car accident. Eternity in hell, the fucker had offered, and a month later he’d been walking with his feet on the good earth again, because it hadn’t held up it’s end of the bargain. 

He’s fine, not another heart attack, just an arrhythmia, they tell him, and he rolls his eyes. He’s like to choke on all the pills he’s swallowing, but he’s smart enough to know he’s got to follow through with it, if he wants to be around for his boys. 

John berates Jim when he comes back in for not telling him, and surprises the man with how calm he is. “So long as they get here quick, I’ll be ok, Jim,” and relaxes when he’s told that they’re already on their way. He’s pretty sure Jim told Ellen about the heart attacks, which means his kids know, but he’s okay with not thinking about it, they both know how to be tired, get somewhere in a hurry.

And two days later, Sam strides on in, looking like he wants to throw himself in John’s arms, but careful of the iv port and tubing, settling for gingerly perching on the edge of the bed, leaning in, trying not to think about the last time they were in a hospital together, the fight they had, when he thought he’d lost John. And in that moment, he understands a little more about what Dean did, and he wordlessly straightens back up, goes to the doorway where Dean’s hovering, more than a little sheepish, and more than slightly afraid, and collars him, marches him up to their Dad.

“Dean.” It’s the only thing John says, as he sits up, pulls his oldest son in tight. It’s a risk, but it’s one they can handle. Gonna suck trying to plan along with fighting a war, but they’ll get there. It’s what Winchesters do, get the job done, and they’re damn good at this on. He tells Dean as much, and is aware that Dean’s dampening the thin hospital gown with some tears. Sam’s hand is fast in John’s, and this is what he needs to be all right.

He can see the doubt in his oldest son’s eyes, though, and he chuckles, speaking softly. “Don’t think that you’re off the hook, son, that Ellen’s will be all you’ll have to take. Taking care of that’s gonna be the first exercise I get, I think.” Dean groans, but it takes the fear out of his eyes. Well, the permeating self doubt at least, because he does look a little trepidatious, knowing that John’s gonna get after his ass about this, and more than once if he doesn’t miss his mark. And then his sons are straightening, looking at him like the fine young men they are, hard and proud of what they’ve accomplished, and there’s determination there too, for the job that still needs doing.

He nods, steady and sure. “I’m not so sure I want to hear some of the details, boys, but once I’m out of this death trap, we’ll debrief, all right?” They both look relieved at that. He’s gotten a few details from Jim, a few from Missouri, knows how improbable the circumstances and the odds were. “We’ll settle in, make some plans, talk to some people, and take the new jobs on, same as always,” he says, feeling the pride seep through his skin like new strength as he hears the twin “yessir’ that they always give in tandem. And then a wicked grin spreads over his face, and creeps onto the faces of his sons as well, and they smack hands with him as he says it, the thing he’s been waiting for.

“Game over, boys.”

**Author's Note:**

> Soundtrack - Etta James - Tell Mama


End file.
